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Decisions: part I

Short story By: Esvetileen
Young adult


A girl in the midst of popularity struggles with her thoughts, and tries to keep her place in the center of attention.

13+


Submitted:Mar 15, 2013    Reads: 22    Comments: 0    Likes: 0   


Right now I must think. if you are wondering why, I will explain. There is a time, or multiple times, in every person's life when it is necessary to sit down and have a nice, long think. And there is to be no regret. just a wondering of what choices did you have and did you choose the wisest. If not, why? And what would have happened, or rather not happened, if you had chosen the right choice? And (in my mind the most important), even if the choice was not right and the consequences were severe, what if the consequences of that choice led to the best? And what if you made the choice that was agreed to be the most sensible, but led to a dull, minor unhappines as well as sensibility? What if? But you can only get these answers if you think. And remember.

Bryn has always been one of my best friends. She understands everyone and is so nice and sympathetic. And she is

All

Mine.

I'm her favorite. Her bestie. Not at the moment of course.

But she's still mine. Because I had her first.

I made her angry a while ago. Of course, she's never really angry. Just pretending. She says she forgives me. So she does. She never lies to me. I'm her favorite.

But Im no lesbian. And she says I don't understand. Is that why she won't look at me? She says she likes me and me only. She says that I'm

Pretty.

And funny.

And talented

And that she tells me things only I can hear. Is that what she told Paige? Paige should back off. I'm no lesbian, but Bryn is still

All.

Mine.

Bryn is my favorite too. I never told her that of course. I don't need to. she likes me anyway. She likes the fact that I'm adorable.

And slow.

And smart.

She only thinks that I'm academically smart. But she's wrong. I am clever. She just doesn't know that. But Paige does.

I don't hate Paige. I admire her. Not that she's better than me or anything. But I don't hate her. Or so I tell myself.

Paige hates me. Distrusts me at the least. She knows of the

plotting,

scheming,

carefully calculated planning going on inside my head. She knows that I never slip up.

Because we're the same, she and I.

Does she really think that I don't know that the rumors spreading lately, nasty rumors, have all come from her? That I haven't noticed the cautious glances, the whispers?I know.

Because we're the same, she and I.

She's my recycling bin. When I am done with people I toss them aside to her. And she reuses them. It's almost an alliance, the only flaw is that we seem to detest each other. Truthfully, it's nothing personal, at heart we can relate.

Just business.

This is different though. Now she has made this personal. This is Bryn. My recycling bin has gotten out of hand. It is time for me to

plot

scheme

plan.

The key point in this is that I'm no lesbian. Another related problem is that I'm labeled as homophobic. But I'm not.

It might be because when Bryn told me her darkest secret, I already knew. I had been playing around, avoiding it, but letting her catch on that I knew because it was

so obvious.

And even though I knew, I froze when it was out in the open. And I cried because it wasn't fair. Then I didn't talk to her. And she didn't talk to me.For months it was nothing.

That's when everything fell apart.

The perfect, delicate world I had created for myself was dangling by just a thread. And with the tiniest touch it all came crashing down, shattering into a thousand tiny pieces that I could never pick up and put back together. Along with Bryn walked away other people. And I watched as they left, in their safe little bubbles that I could no longer enter.

But my world was never truly perfect.

No

People were suffering. But I called it perfect, because I was the only one who thrived.

I'm a natural born liar. I've been lying since I slipped out from between my mother's legs. There is only one thing, one thing, that I can not lie about.

The truth about myself.

I can't convince myself that I'm half the person I pretend to be. And seeing their bright faces, calling to me, saying,

"You're such a nice person!"

my heart melted. And I cried, unknown, the tears that were the liquid remains of my heart dripping down the glass.

I hate to lie. I really do. The trick about lying is to lie to yourself before lying to others. That's probably the reason why I'm so successful.

Because I'm so gullible as to believe my own lies.

That I'm a good person.

That I have the ability to make everyone like me.

That I'm a lesbian.

Because none of the above are true. But Bryn doesn't know that. And they are all useful things to believe.

Yes, the lies. My mind is where the lies become the truth

and the truth

is forgotten.

I tell her,

"I'm a lesbian," and all my problams will go away.

Momentarily.

That's what I did. But Bryn doesn't believe it. No, of course she does, she must!

It's part of my plan. My plan has no flaws.

And Paige wants her back. Cheating is also part of business. She cheats too.

Those artificial, perfectly timed tears make me boil inside.

Those tears are so

disgustingly,

obviously

fake.

I did it much better. None of that moping and complaining nd shaking.

For us there are occasional times when we are in real distress.

I can see that expression right now. But not on her face. Or mine.

It's on his.

He's struggling to compose himself. Glaring

hatred

scorn

malice

revulsion.

I know what I've done. I've asked for forgiveness. But right now, his eyes are accusing,

"It's your fault. It's all your fault."

somehow finding the strength to do so while they

laugh.

I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. But it was for the sake of perfection.

I think as they

laugh.

He claims to like Paige. Jealousy burns.

I'm jealous of Paige. But not for the reason you might think.

Her body contains the kindness that I am lacking.

This is my story. The sad story of Miss Popularity who just wanted more. A lot of stories have antagonists who are just like me. I am a snob, and I am selfish. But what made me different is that I understood those things, and knowing them pained me. You see, I had two best friends. The first one was Bryn. Bryn was a lesbian, only halfway out of the closet. Being a lesbian wouldn't have affected our friendship much if it weren't for the fact that she had a little girl crush on me. Now I was a classic Miss Popularity. Meaning, not very nice. And I was on the verge of being angry with Bryn, for after I played with her feelings, rejected and shunned her, where did she go? Straight to my arch enemy: Paige. Trust me, if Paige and I were left alone in a room together to have a nice long heart to heart chat, we would have gotten along splendidly. But we were never to do that. Paige was runner up Miss Popularity. Maybe even on the same level as myself, not that I would ever admit that. She was punk and pretty and tall, designed her own clothes, wrote spicy short stories that could have easily been published, could raise one eyebrow just like me and had totally kickass drawing skills that left us with our jaws resting on our knees. To sum it up, she was cooler than me, which was something I never wanted to think about. And thanks to that, she was extremely popular among Bryn's punk-loving friends. After what I thought of as Bryn's "betrayal" , I tried wheedling closer to her. I lied and lied my way back to her circle of friends, but by the time I did, I wasn't number one any more. Paige was. So I brought out the biggest lie of all. I told Bryn that I was a lesbian. As any smart person would do, she didn't believe me. But I persisted and persisted and instead of reaching her ears, it reached the ears of others, who immediately knew it wasn't true and, on one of the sticky note pages of their brains, they labeled me as a big, fat liar, to keep in mind for later use. That's the story of how I lost my first best friend. The second story is much simpler:

There once was a boy named Alistair. Small, unpopular, teased. And there was a girl, me. Mean and unappeased. For whatever the reason, we became best friends and neve left the other's side. Until one day he realized I was using him, and knew how much I lied. Now every day he sends my hurt glances that make me drown in guilt. For he has no idea about all the tears I've spilt.

The End. Now who's the betrayer? You guessed it! Me.

To be continued...





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